


Mysteries Abroad

by starluff



Series: JWP 2015 [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, Egypt, Gen, Going Abroad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 07:49:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4296585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starluff/pseuds/starluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We leave London for a mo...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mysteries Abroad

**Author's Note:**

> BECAUSE WE ARE A MULTICULTURAL FANDOM! *Shakes fist*

After Afghanistan, John felt the heat really wasn't that bad. It was quite nice, in fact, but Sherlock looked like he was dying. To his credit, Sherlock didn't say anything, but his face was red and he seemed a bit more sluggish than usual.

"Remind me again why we're here?" John muttered to his personal pain in the buttocks, Sherlock. He didn't know if he meant 'here' by where they were sitting (a Ma'idat Rahman, which is to say, something that mosques do during Ramadan where they will feed anyone who wants to be fed), the city they were in (which was Zamalek, if you were curious), or even the city (Egypt), Christ, the fucking continent. (If you know your world geography, you'll know the continent is Africa.)

Sherlock, of course, had no such uncertainty and assumed (or, since Sherlock never assumes, he willfully ignored the rest) that John just meant where they were sitting.

"Because we've just discovered that the man Mycroft wants us to find is having a very important meeting right after this Ma'idat Rahman and we need to follow him." Sherlock replied.

"Wouldn't it be better if we, oh I don't know, were a bit more in disguise? Won't the man just spot us anyway?" John groused. It wasn't that they were doing anything or wearing anything strange, but you may as well stamp 'Foreigner' on their foreheads, they stood out that much. He was pretty sure that that group of girls they had seen earlier had been giggling and pointing at them. And now they were getting weird looks, like they were confused as to why they were here and what they needed free food for.

"No, Zamalek is full of foreigners; it would be perfectly ordinary for one, or two is this case, were to come here for a free dinner as well as for the novelty."

John shrugged, still uncomfortable but resigned to his fate. After a few minutes, the Mosque's speakers played the Athan, the announcement that it was time to pray Al Maghrib and eat. Someone came to give both John and Sherlock a Styrofoam plate with what was known as fata, rice with bread and red sauce basically, some meat, and pickled ... stuff. Was that a pickled lemon?

John shrugged off his discomfort and decided to not care. The food was pretty good and who knew when they would get to rest and eat again when Sherlock were back on the scent? John poked Sherlock to get him to eat and tucked in.


End file.
